


anything worth while

by tommyiisiit



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hair Braiding, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommyiisiit/pseuds/tommyiisiit
Summary: How dangerous that is, red eyes meeting green one's—eyes are a distraction, he thinks, especially when it's rare to see them so.. personal. And up close. Real. He almost regrets it, almost looks away, but Dré's lips are looking like they're about to move, so he stays.Like a lost lingering child, he stays sitting on his own log, looking towards Dré with the type of stare that he shouldn't be capable of making.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Comments: 26
Kudos: 304





	anything worth while

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of finishing my over DNB oneshot that's nearing 10k words I decided to take a break and write /this/ instead. It has literally no plot, it's just fluff and SBI family dynamic (I'm not sorry). Completely Minecraft IRL and character shipping.

He doesn't need to wear that mask.

That's the one thing he's sure of. He isn't sure of much, especially himself—it always seems like he is, but really as often as he surprises the crowd, he surprises himself, too. 

It's one of the most amazing things about being someone like him, always in the spot light whether he wants to be or not. Always having eyes on him, watching and routing for him to do something, _anything worth while._

Except today is different. It's one of the few times he really is out of the spotlight, yet not cowering away, hidden and alone. He owes it to Dré, the man sitting infront of him staring into the fire.

And God, he can't help but have his heart ache. It's stupid. He feels _stupid_. It's something Wilbur would tease him about for hours, just like how he used to be teased for wearing glasses—

Which were definitely not rectangular, bulky, and accompanied with dark brown hair he has since begun to dye pink, keeping his brother's originality to himself. His _twin's_ originality, who was a fuckin' dick. 

He can practically hear his voice already, and he's so lucky Dré is preoccupied with poking a stick into the fire because he probably looks frozen. He is _frozen_ , he thinks, and it's because of _him_. 

But thinking is easier than actually saying something, whispering his thoughts out loud, the white sound being nothing but the crackling sounds of the fire. 

So instead he thinks.

Dré has gorgeous freckles, the type that end up everywhere. There's a huge patch along side his cheeks, though, even if they cover his whole face. Some are softer than others, some are clearly caused by where the sun manages to peak through well he's wearing his mask.

His skin is a soft golden tan. It reminds him of The Nether, of a world he once ruled over—inevitably it reminds him how stupid he is. 

For clinging to these simple thoughts of Dré. For these thoughts spilling out in general.

And God, do they spill out. In everything he does. In his usual hello to Dré when they're on the same playing field, the hesitation he's had lately when they're at eachother's throats during a tournament—his inability to look away from Dré, no matter how much he _knows_ he should.

It doesn't help that his Green eyes are so compelling. He's heard George compare them to emeralds, but he thinks that's too _cheesy_ even for him.

Instead he'd compare them to grass.

It's one of the first things he remembers, ironically enough. The soft green grass between his toes, the morning dew clinging to both him and his pant legs. The days he'd stay out camping with Wilbur, or the day's he was able to teach Tommy how to fire an arrow properly—he's always _liked_ the color green.

Sure, it wasn't his _favorite_ color, but now? There was just something so appealing about waking up early—something he's never found himself doing before, considering he didn't even sleep most nights—and sitting down in his garden alone. Just.. _watching_ as the sun rises and as the shadows of the morning grow less and less against the grass.

Dré slightly sits up, still poking away at the embers. A few lose sparks fly up into the dark sky, and Techno watches as they slowly float back down—one nearly landing in Dré's hair. 

It's like a _cloud_. But not like Wilbur's. It's different, extremely different—he doesn't know how to explain why, though. Maybe it's because it's lighter, the type of brown you'd compare to an old flower pot, it's color withered away by the sun. 

Maybe it's because it's seems softer and tamed, but messy at the exact same time. 

Maybe it's because it's Dré, and that seems to be all Techno really needs to know at this point—it's enough for him, it seems, even though he should need something else, anything else to make this situation make _sense_.

But then again, the situation never makes sense as long as Dré is involved.

"Hey Techno..." It's enough to bring him back to reality, quickly blinking once or twice before looking Dream in the eyes.

And how dangerous that is, red eyes meeting green one's—eyes are a distraction, he thinks, especially when it's rare to see them so.. personal. _And_ up close. _Real_. He almost regrets it, almost looks away, but Dré's lips are looking like they're about to move, so he stays.

Like a lost lingering child, he stays sitting on his own log, looking towards Dré with the type of stare that he shouldn't be capable of making. Really, It's almost embarssing.

"Why do you have a braid in the front of your hair?" He finally asks, and Techno finds himself staring towards Dré, nearly ready to laugh—it's a strange question, but it reminds him of what he was doing before he got here, not less than an hour or so ago.

* * *

" _Techno_ , Tubbo has a question for you." Tommy says, and well he doesn't seem nervous Techno can see it in how he stands, his hands intertwined with eachother. 

Tubbo stands behind him, peering over his shoulder—poor kid is probably straining himself, trying to see over a literal giant of a man. He can't help but smile at that, a weak hidden smile, but a smile nonetheless.

It's the type of expression he only manages to share with the closest of people in his life—it's the type of expression that makes even Tommy himself ease up, almost immediately relaxing and offering a smile back.

"Well, ask away," He eventually says.

He had dinner at Philza's, a family dinner of sorts, so that probably explained why he was in such a decent mood for once. It's clear the boy's are taking advantage of that, not that he minds.

He can't really mind when it's something as seemingly innocent as this, after all.

"Well, uhm." Tubbo begins, stepping out from behind Tommy, seemingly relaxing ad well. "Phil showed us a old picture of you with braids in your hair, and he said that _uhm_ —." 

Tommy cuts him off, blurting it out a little too loud next to his friend's poor ears. "That you did it yourself! And that you knew how to braid hair and uh—," He glances towards Tubbo, who stares him down, slowly nodding as if to say go on. 

"Could you, uh, maybe teach us? _Big Man?_ " Tommy says, looking towards Techno again after he's finished speaking.

He just laughs, waving his hand, beckoning them to come over.

* * *

"Sorry if that's too _personal_ , I just—," Dré's speaking again, and Techno's pretty sure he's lost a few minutes. He finds himself blinking again, once, twice, "—Just.. _didn't_ expect you to know how to braid hair." 

"Oh." He mumbles out, staring towards Dré before scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I know how to braid hair. I was teachin' Tubbo and Tommy, actually—," He says, already letting out more than he's usually comfortable with. 

But it's just Dream. Just him and Dream, and it's worth it considering the look of shock he gets, the weird look that spreads over Dré's face for a moment or so.

"You taught.. Tommy and Tubbo how to braid hair? Today? Out of the blue?" He says, his lips pressed tightly together when he isn't speaking, only to gently part as he laughs, wheezing out his.. joy _(?)_ gently.

Techno can feel the slightest of blushes creeping onto his own face. He finally does look away, staring towards the fire for a mere moment as his own lips thin out, becoming a gentle white line with the pressure he's putting on them.

He glances back before nodding. "Well, yeah. They kinda _asked_ and—."

"Can you teach _me_?" 

They speak at the same time, words becoming a jumbled mess. Techno still catches what Dré says though, his brows instantly raising. It's rare to see Techno anything but emotionless, so when Dré sees the apparent confusion it's almost like he feels the need to explain himself.

Make it normal, make it convincing.

"For, uh, my _sister_. She's visiting during the next week, I've told you about her, _right_? Yeah, she's uh, staying with me for awhile. She might actually move in permanently so—." Dream rambles out, his hand brushing up against his neck as he gently tilts his head.

Techno can't help but notice how his hoodie pulls and how the black turtle neck clings to him, something he's nearly always seen wearing no matter the occasion.

He just nods, ever so slowly before speaking. "Yes—sure, _I mean,_ I—." He manages, about as graceful as a fallen prince could be.

Dré accepts it, though. Accepts _him_. Willingly accepts him for how he is—jumps up on his own two feet, in mere seconds finding himself beside the pink haired man, a little too close for Technoblade's liking.

Yet not close _enough_ at the same exact time.

Techno pauses, looking towards the other with wide eyes. He can see everything now, even the small scars on Dré's face—the way his cheeks shine a soft pink hue, as if he's embarrassed by being so close, for asking such a favor from someone who's closer to an _enemy_ than an _ally_. 

"So, I just take a small chunk of your hair, right?" Dré says. He's sitting on the log, one leg over each side as he leans in, grabbing some of Techno's hair without any real confirmation.

He's _gentle_ , if it weren't for the fact Techno was looking towards him he wouldn't have even noticed. "Yes, and then you seperate that small chunk into three equal peices." 

Dream seems to nod, biting his lip slightly before doing just that, eyes intense and focused on the strands of hair—his hair, _Techno's_ hair. He can't help but watch Dré and his expressions, can't help but sit there speechless.

Usually other people don't touch him, especially his hair—usually other people don't get close enough period. Family is the only exception to that, and even _then_ he finds himself usually cautious around them, too. 

Dré seems to prove him wrong time and time again.

He's not family. They aren't abnormally close, nothing like how George and Sapnap are with Dream at least—

Yet here they are. Here _he_ is, almost leaning into Dré's touch like it's the religious experience he's been lacking.

He clears his throat before speaking again. 

"Cross over the strand closest to the right to the strand in the middle." He says, and Dré does so, looking as if he's attempting to memorize how it's supposed to look.

"Now, the third strand that's lookin' a little lonely—," Techno begins and Dré laughs, leaning in even closer well keeping his hands as straight as possible, attempting not to fuck up what he's already done.

"Only a little, he's still pretty close with his buddies, I'd say," Dré jokes back, looking into Techno's eyes—and just like that he's stuck again, staring towards green orbs with nothing but the fire providing them light.

"Cross 'em over onto the new middle strand, and just kinda repeat that process over and over again." He says, eyes still locked onto Dré's. The other break's their stare, looking towards the building bricks of his braid with confusion—

And then his face lights up. He quickly does just as he was told mere moment's before, repeating the whole process over and over again.

The braid isn't _pretty_ by any means when Techno eyes it. He can't fully see it, but it looks about accurate for a first try. That doesn't stop Dré from reaching into Techno's front pocket unexpectedly, pulling out a clear hair tie and fixing the braid in place.

Techno just let's out a soft bewildered gasp, earning a grin from Dré who glances back towards him. "You always keep a few in your front pocket. I've seen you pull one out before PVP, so." He says as if it's the most normal thing to say.

As if admitting you watch your rival shamelessly is normal by any means.

Techno can only continue to stare before mumbling out a small "Oh," earning a tea kettle wheeze from Dré once more.

As if he were the funniest person in the world.

And _that's_ why he doesn't need to wear his mask. Because the smile on Dré's face is too beautiful not to show off to the world, and well he's not religious—can't even humor believing in a God or any greater being—he finds hmself thinking it's a _sin_ to cover something like that up.

If Techno finds himself smiling back, a small smile compared to Dré's own loud teeth filled grin, then _God_ strike him dead.

It'd save him time, after all, considering _simpin_ ' seems likely to be the death of him. 


End file.
